


Come Home To Find A New

by ThatSoChangeableChick



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Batcave, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Gen, M/M, Tim Drake is Red Robin, after a fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSoChangeableChick/pseuds/ThatSoChangeableChick
Summary: Tim isn't hiding from what he did. He just has a lot of work to do.





	

His data streamed, cultivated to six screens, categorized and decrypted as constant lime green on black beside satellite images of a suspected weapon's manufacturing warehouse and the little screen at the top for the police scanner. If anything else occurred he'd receive an alert, the station was set and complete, and the information his sources had handed wouldn't file or memorize itself.

A Kevlar-suited hand landed on his shoulder, despite his minute flinch he relaxed under it, continued to type and decode because an attempt to take him away from here would be made. Valiant, as always. "Tim," Batman declared, "It's been nine hours." This was spoken like Tim didn't know that but Tim was aware of every painstaking second, and he wouldn't move from here until he finished or the tension left his ramrod back.

Exhaustion was the key. It wouldn't be fair on Kon, it never was but Tim didn't know how else to handle it. He'd made a mistake, grave in itself when it'd hurt the person he'd loved nearly more than all else. He blinked blurriness from behind his boxed glasses, "I'm almost finished, B," Tim lied.

B's hum indicated how he didn't believe that. Tim had believed Bruce would understand somewhat, someone must've talked to him, maybe Dick despite how Tim kept a distance between them. It wasn't fair that Dick still did that. It wasn't right or just, he'd have to create thicker boundaries, stronger fortresses to keep Dick out.

It'd be difficult, always was, especially when Tim wished to fall back into old patterns. Ones that'd nearly been the foundation of everything important to him, except that was in the past and times moved on. His tenth coffee still fizzled in his mouth and Tim continued to click at the keys.

Even if Bruce wanted to deconstruct what'd happened, provide an intent ear, Tim was more than capable of diving under a conversation B probably didn't even want to attempt. Batman tucked his cowl and gloves in their compartment, wandered the cave back to Tim and hunched to read the data over Tim's shoulder, a hand to the back of the swivel chair. "…from your intelligence network?" Bruce clarified.

Tim nodded. His fingers clacked on the keyboard, zooming in on the satellite footage just a little for suspected movement before he returned to his data. It would be foolish to assume Tim's encryption couldn't be decoded on whim by Batman, it was actually sort of comforting – Bruce taught him the foundations of his life.

For a while they're both content to discuss the data and correlate it with information Batman had unearthed. It would've lasted too if it wasn't for B's exhale, flickered look at Tim as he received his full attention. "You can't hide out here forever, Tim," Bruce signified. He shouldn't intrude on Batman and Robin's space, Tim knew that but he'd still stepped away to here first.

He flashed a crooked smile, "I know. I really am almost finished," Tim gestured, swiveled back to the computer now that the distraction had soured.

His hand squeezed Tim's shoulder. "You should speak to him, hiding down here won't solve it," Bruce said, spoken from true experience. Except it wasn't like Bruce followed that advice, not always – not all the time, why was Tim obligated? His fingers tightened above the keyboard, his jaw twitched before he forcefully uncoiled it.

"I'll talk with him later, Bruce," Tim said in nonchalance so prevalent it had to be forced. It was and while he was tired of this, it was still better. Tim had made a mistake, misjudge and misguided his boyfriend into a near deathly state. Kon probably couldn't even look at him right then. Kon needed space, time to relax and reflect, and Tim needed time to think of how he'd answer for what he did.

All probabilities indicated there wasn't a thing Kon would want in exchange. If a moment wasn't raw, if it'd already cooled into tenacious resilience and reflective backlash, then Kon allowed bygones to be bygones. He wouldn't forget, just rarely prodded the lumps unless it irritated or hurt him.

It was much smarter than Tim's coping mechanism, would include disappearing to places he wasn't altogether welcome and reloading his overworked schedule. He couldn't really halt it, instinct won over in those moments and there was always work to be done.

"I know you will," Bruce said. He wilted a little at the faith, "But, you can't hold it off. Kon El is important to you, you're –" Bruce actually considered the word before he settled, pleased tilt in the word, " – happier with him." The unspoken _'and I want you to be happy'_ made Tim swallow hard.

His suspicion that Bruce wanted Tim out the Cave slightly subsided, his shoulders drooped, swiveling on the creaky chair with a bare foot. He sucked his cheeks, "I don't want to make it worse," Tim admitted, head bowed but too exhausted to hold back where he required assistance.

"Conner stayed with you this long," B hummed. His adoptive father's humor was noted but Tim wasn't altogether certain that wasn't a fluke. Obviously, Bruce understood and he sighed, settled against the console with crossed arms. "You won't," Bruce firmly declared, "Have faith in your abilities, Tim."

It was such an order, familiar like one that Tim nearly instinctual complied. He huffed, smirk crooked and cheeked, "Aye, aye, Batman, sir." Bruce's brow rose, nodded as if justice was served, his lips twitched. He hadn't expected the ruffle in his longish locks, to the extent he semi-startled and stilled, until Batman moved onward, already unlatching the many mechanisms holding his suit together.

He flickered back at the six stark screens that were far too bright after the dim light of the rest of the cave, squinted a little and began to close down programs, answering alerts and reinserting protocols to run while he wasn't there. Each click felt like a step towards a pit, uncertain if it was three foot deep or bottomless.

Once Tim downsized the final program, screens blinked out and Red Robin insignia disappeared Bruce was already in civilian wear, awaiting him at the staircase upwards. He trotted forward, side-stepped Bruce's disapproving look at his bare feet in the frigid cave and stretched out his wrists, fingers and back. It'd been good work.

Always more to do though.

Just a few stairs to ascend. "Alfred made doughnuts," Bruce said, buttoned in the password.

Tim blinked, "Is there a special occasion?" It wouldn't be the first time he'd been wrapped up in work to miss a celebration or communication, usually he planned in advance, had things shipped to certain dates, emails already half typed out, letters only a stamp from being sent. He didn't think he'd forgotten or forgone an occasion.

His adoptive father's mouth twitched, "No, Tim." Oh. Every so often Alfred made quote, unquote junk food. Usually as a deterrent to find it elsewhere with less nutritional value. The door into the Manor slid to reveal blinding light and a mostly locked down foyer. "I'm certain there's enough to take to Conner as well," B mentioned.

Not in the least bit sly and alright with that.

It was a remnant of finally finding where he'd belonged, always feeling soothed beside Bruce and Tim's lips quirked, head lifted and softened. Yeah, that sounded like an alright plan.


End file.
